


69th Hunger Games: A District 4 Story

by episk_y



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies), The Hunger Games (Movies) RPF
Genre: 69th Hunger Games, F/M, Hunger Games, OC, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-10 04:05:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18652558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/episk_y/pseuds/episk_y
Summary: Finnick made me realize that even if you win The Hunger Games, you don't actually win. You are still stuck with all of the horrors you witnessed in the arena. Horrors that I thought I would never have to endure.Boy did I have another thing coming.





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finnick made me realize that even if you win The Hunger Games, you don't actually win. You are still stuck with all of the horrors you witnessed in the arena. Horrors that I thought I would never have to endure.
> 
> Boy did I have another thing coming.

"In penance for their uprising, each district shall offer up a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18 at a public 'reaping'. These tributes shall be delivered to the custody of the Capitol. And then transferred into a public arena, where they will fight to the death until a lone victor remains. Henceforth and forevermore this pageant shall be known as 'The Hunger Games.'"

This pageant. This pageant. That it what those twisted Capitol citizens call this slaughter-fest.

I read the words as they appear on my screen, as they do every year around this time. Today is the day before the districts' annual reaping, and the Capitol has already started their celebrations. Why wouldn't they, right? It's their favorite time on year. Watching kids murder other kids for days on end.

It's sick.

"Turn that off, dear. You don't need to be worrying about that until tomorrow." My grandmother's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, Nana." I say as I power off the holographic display.

I have been living with my grandma for around seven years now. My parents' fishing boat sank when I was ten, killing them and everyone on board. Before that, we were pretty well off. I had food on my table for every meal and then some. I lived in a nice house, close to Victor's Village. My family and I were definitely among some of the more wealthy families in District 4. However, once my parents died, so did you source of income. Me and my grandmother were forced to move to a smaller house nearer to the ocean. I signed up for tessera for both me and her when I was 12. We fell, and we fell hard.

It wasn't all bad though. Once we moved to the poorer sector of the district, I met the most amazing people you could ever dream of meeting: Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair. The three of us were inseparable for years. That is, of course, until we were.

Finnick has never been the same since he won the 65th Hunger Games. He visited me and Annie in our sector when he could, but once he turned 16, he started becoming distant. I haven't seen him in two years.

It was hard watching your friend in the arena. You felt powerless. You were powerless. There was nothing you could do to help them. All you could do was watch, and that it the worst feeling in the world. At least, that's how I felt in the beginning. The capitol loved him. He had sponsor after sponsor sending him food, medicine, and even a trident, the most expensive sponsor gift ever given in the games to date. That weapon brought something else out of him. Something I wish I had never seen.

I thought it would be hard to see him suffer at the hands of the other tributes in the arena. I never thought it would be even harder seeing the other tributes suffer at his hand. The Capitol turned him into a monster. Even when he returned to District 4, he was never himself. There were always glimmers of the old Finnick, but they never lasted long.

Finnick made me realize that even if you win The Hunger Games, you don't actually win. You are still stuck with all of the horrors you witnessed in the arena. Horrors that I thought I would never have to endure.

Boy did I have another thing coming.


	2. The Reaping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well congratulations to Beck Wiley and Ara Conway, your tributes for this year's 69th annual Hunger Games!"
> 
> The last thing I see as I'm shoved through the Justice Building doors is Finnick still staring at the floor and a tear in the process of falling from his cheek to the stage floor.

I awake to the sounds of waves crashing against the shore and the screaming of seagulls outside my bedroom window. Today seems like the start to any other normal day here in District 4. Except that it isn't. Today children will be reaped and offered up as tribute in the 69th Hunger Games. A day every family in the district dreads.

Yes, technically District 4 is considered a "career" district because there is an academy here that offers training for The Games. Often our district forms an alliance with Districts 1 and 2 because of our status and strength in the arena. However, the mentors in the academy here rarely tell their students to volunteer. The academy is solely there for comfort in the unfortunate event where the child attending is reaped, where in the other career districts it is there for students to train and actually volunteer. Even so, not every family can afford to send their child to the academy, mine being among the few.

"Morning, Nana." I say groggily as I emerge from my bedroom. My grandmother is sitting near the window, weaving a net that she had been working on for the past few days.

"Good morning, dear," she says, not taking her eyes off her work. I can tell the weight that today brings is already getting to her as well. "Would you go to the pier and check our traps?"

"Sure." I say simply. Today is usually filled with silence from the two of us until the reaping is finished. Neither of us feel that it's safe enough to converse. Maybe if we don't speak to each other, it will be that much easier to say goodbye if I'm reaped. I think that's our mutual understanding.

I hug the tin bucket close to my chest as I make my way down to the docks. The sun is just starting to peek above the ocean line, leaving the sky dusted with various yellows and pinks. I have always preferred sunrises to sunsets. There are so many possibilities that come along with sunrises, whereas with a sunset, everything is set-in-stone, all ignorance of the day lost. Maybe I just don't like endings.

"Hey, stranger," a familiar voice pulls me out of my thoughts, "I haven't seen you all week. How's your grandmother?"

"Sorry, Annie," I say, "She's the same, no better, no worse. God, I just want her to get better, you know?" My grandmother has had a heart condition for the past couple years. The medics can't really do anything about it, they say. They just give her medication and tell her to stay away from stressful situations. It has been going well so far.

"You know, she might not," Annie says in a hushed voice. Her comment doesn't bother me all that much because, well, I know she's right. Me and my grandmother both know that she has very limited time left, and we've come to accept that. At least I think I have accepted it. Who knows what I'll feel when the day actually comes.

"Thank you, that is just the kind of thing that I want to hear today," I say in an overly sarcastic tone.

"Just speaking the truth," Annie giggles with a shrug.

"Oh Annie, always the realist," I joke, nudging her shoulder, "remind me why I've stayed friends with you all these years?"

"Because no one else would talk to you," she says simply, making me eat my own words. It was true though, I was an outcast for a while when me and my grandmother first moved to this sector of District 4. Many of the kids knew where I came from, and resented me for it. Lucky for me, I had another outcast to come to my aid. I honestly don't know why Finnick got mixed up with the likes of us. But I'm glad he did. God, I miss him

"Okay, that's enough out of you," I laugh as we approach the pier. I emptied our various lobster traps and nets. Two crabs, an oyster, and three clams. Not terrible. I throw them in my bucket and start on my way back home.

Most of the walk back is filled with silence between me and Annie. We know once we return home, we will need to start getting ourselves ready for the reaping. My name is in 15 times today. Not as many as most, but still more than enough to make me nervous.

I look out at the sun, which is now well above the ocean line, "Do you remember when we were younger, and Finnick tried to convince us that if we swam far enough the Capitol could never find us, and then we wouldn't have to worry about things like The Hunger Games anymore?"

Annie giggles and nods, but her smile fades fast, "Yeah, that was the year before he was reaped."

I swallow hard to try to get rid of the lump in my throat. We were kids. He was a kid when he did all those horrible things in the arena. I wish I could just talk to him again. I wish he would've never even gone into the arena. I wish The Hunger Games were never a thing. I wish they would just go away.

"I'll see you soon," Annie says as she breaks off into her home. I simply nod.

I step into my bedroom to see that my grandmother has already laid out my outfit. A simple white dress, nothing fancy. In the bathroom, she has also drew me a fresh bath. I sigh as I start to undress and step in the lukewarm tub. I start to scrub away at my salty skin and hair. As I clean myself, my mind starts to wander.

District 4 is so lucky. Even the poorest sectors still have running water. Drinkable water. I've heard that the poorer districts like 10, 11, and 12 don't even have that. I should feel privileged to live in a wealthy district like 4. So why don't I? I don't feel lucky or privileged, even when my parents were alive. It's because of this. I think to myself as I scrub the sand out of my hair. It's because of the Capitol and their sick, twisted games. It needs to stop.

I grab the towel next to the tub and begin drying myself. There is only one thought running through my mind now: The Games must stop... The Games must stop... The Games must stop... But they never will. The Capitol and President Snow are too strong. It would take a massive uprising to overthrow him. And I'm just one 17 year old kid. There isn't anything I can do about this.

I look at myself in the mirror, straightening out the dress my grandmother laid out for me. It was actually very pretty. The top was laced with intricate beaded designs that trickled down into a lightweight, chiffon skirt. It fit me like a glove. Why have I never seen this dress before?

"Oh, sweetheart," I hear my grandmother's voice in the doorframe behind me, "you look just like your mother."

"No, I don't," I say, looking at her through the mirror.

"No, you don't," she agrees with a laugh, "but you do look beautiful in her dress."

My mom's dress. I feel tears begin to well up in my eyes as I study the dress once more. I turn to my grandmother, "Thank you."

She smiles, "We better get going."

The knot in my stomach and the grip a have on my grandmother's hand grows with every step I take closer to District 4's Justice Building. Once we get to the point where we separate, she holds my face gently, "I love you so much, my little raindrop," she whispers.

"I love you too," I whisper back as she kisses my forehead.

I make my way up to the peacekeepers and routinely hold out my right finger. The sting doesn't even phase me anymore.

"Ara!" I hear my name as I start heading over to my place with the other 17 year olds. "Ara Conway, over here!" I eventually spot Annie and make my way through the crowd of teenagers to meet her.

I simply offer her a small smile as I take my place beside her, turning my attention towards the stage of the Justice Building. I spot Finnick sitting near the back of the stage with Mags, the other mentor for District 4. I stare, not realizing I'm doing so until makes direct eye contact with me. I quickly stare down at my shoes, hoping he didn't realize. But he did, because when I look up again, our eyes meet again. He shoots me a small smile and I do the same in return.

"Welcome! Welcome! Happy Hunger Games to all!" Barnaby Beckett, the District 4 escort, saunters on stage looking as green as ever, "And may the odds by ever in your favor." He pauses, scanning this year's eligible tributes. He smiles in satisfaction as he starts again, "Now before we select our tributes, we have a special message from The Capitol," he says as he turns toward the screen.

War. Terrible war...

The video begins the same way it always has. Throughout the years, I have learned to put myself on autopilot during this "special" Capitol message. It is all just lies anyway. I turn my attention to Finnick, who is watching the screen intently. How does he do it? How does he watch kids that he has trained and mentored die every year? Does he have someone to talk to? Has he made friends with the other victors? Is that why he never comes to visit me or Annie anymore? Is he better off without us? I shake my thoughts out of my head.

"He looks so different, doesn't he?" Annie whispers.

"What?" I ask, caught off guard.

"Finnick. He looks so grown up. He's not that lanky 14 year old he was when he entered The Games."

"You're right," I whisper back, "Now, he's a lanky 18 year old."

Annie snorts and covers her mouth, "Don't lie to yourself, Ara," she says, "he looks like a full blown man now."

She was right. Finnick did look like an adult. He had grown into his limbs, and his face had chiseled out significantly. He was muscular, and tanned, and... well... handsome. He had always been a looker, but now he looked like a statue. No wonder the women of The Capitol love him so much.

"Now," Barnaby begins to recite his lines as the video ends, "the time has come to select one courageous young man and women for the honor of representing District 4 in the 69th annual Hunger Games. Ladies first." He says excitedly, almost skipping over to the large bowl filled with the names of all the female children in our District. Annie grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly. I do the same in return.

Barnaby's hand dives into the glass orb, and rustles around for a bit before finally choosing a slip of paper. I close my eyes and hold my breath as he makes his way back to the microphone.

"The female tribute for District 4 is," he pauses to open the small envelope, "Ara Conway." I feel Annie's grip on my hand loosen.

Ara Conway. Me.

I open my eyes to see tons more staring back at me. The world starts spinning around me. I can't move. I can't think. I look to Annie, who is as pale as a ghost.

Some of the girls start to push me toward the aisle. Barbary is saying something, but his voice sounds almost muffled. One of the peacekeepers yank me out of the crowd by my upper arm, almost sending me crashing to the ground. As the peacekeepers escort me to the stage, all I can hear is my breathing and my grandmother's cries. My grandmother. I look back to see her in a heap on the ground. No one tending to her. No one comforting her.

My eyes start to sting as I tear them away from her and to the steps of the stage. As I step up, my eyes immediately find Finnick. He is staring at his shoes, avoiding eye contact. I notice the veins on his neck bulging out and his knuckles, which look like they are about to tear through his skin. Barnaby offers his arm once I completely ascend the stairs and I take it, allowing him to user me to the center of the stage.

"Let's hear it for our female tribute, Miss Ara Conway!" There were a few claps from the audience. It was more awkward than celebratory.

"And now for the boys," Barnaby says, making his way over to the other bowl. He chooses an envelope rather quickly and makes his way back to the microphone. "Dorian Page!"

"I volunteer." I hear a voice come from the 18 year old section.

"Oh, and we have a volunteer! How exciting!" Barnaby exclaims, "Come on up son!"

An average sized teenager emerges from the crowd. He makes his way up to the stage with ease. I look out to the rest of the boys and see two of them in an embrace in the 13 year old section. I'm assuming that one of them is Dorian.

"And what is your name?" Barnaby asks.

"Beck Wiley." He says simply. Wiley? So, Dorian and him aren't related in any way. Why did he volunteer? He must attend the academy. District 4 is actually going to have a proper career this year. Great.

"Well congratulations to Beck Wiley and Ara Conway, your tributes for this year's 69th annual Hunger Games!"

The last thing I see as I'm shoved through the Justice Building doors is Finnick still staring at the floor and a tear in the process of falling from his cheek to the stage floor.


	3. The Train Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, excuse me," I hear Beck say as he reaches the automatic doors to the joining car. 
> 
> "Don't worry about it," I hear a familiar voice say. All my limbs immediately turn to stone. I don't dare look up. "Hey, Ara." 
> 
> Chills are sent down my spine. I tear my gaze away from my fidgeting hands to meet his. We stare at each other for a moment. His hair is messy, as if he had been running his hands through it continuously. His eyes were glossy, but I couldn't tell if that was their natural state, or if he was on the verge of tears. I know I was.

"You have to take care of her," I tell Annie, pulling away from the hug that has taken up most of her time with me, "Please, Annie, she has no one." 

"Ara, don't talk like this," she says as she takes my hands in her's, "please, don't talk like you are already gone."

"Oh, come on. Where's that realistic Annie I know and love?" I say trying, and failing, to lighten the mood.

 

"She's right here," she says, "Ara, you can win this. Finnick did when he was fourteen."

"I'm not Finnick, Annie. I don't think I'm capable of doing half the things he did in that arena," I snap

"We didn't think Finnick was either, but look at him now. Until you are in that arena, you have no clue what you are capable of. It could bring out this totally ruthless fighter in you." I know she is trying to make me feel better, but evidently, she's not. 

"I don't think I want to do half the things he did in that arena," I rephrase after a long pause. 

Annie lets out a shaky breath, "Please," she pauses, "just, please try to come home. For me." 

"Okay, " I whisper, trying my best to give her a reassuring smile. 

The Peacekeeper at the door then signals that our time is up. I clench my jaw and pull Annie into one last embrace, "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, okay?" I say, playing along with the storyline that I'm coming home. 

Annie laughs as she wipes away her tears, "No promises," she says as the Peacekeepers escort her out of the room. "I'll see you soon!" she calls just before the doors shut. 

I am then left alone on the cold, marble room of the Justice Building. I never thought I would be back here. I thought the last time I would ever have to step foot in this room was Finnick's reaping. I remember him assuring me and Annie over and over that he was coming back. We didn't believe him. 

My mind suddenly flicks to my grandmother. If I don't come home, she isn't going to have anybody. No family to take care of her. I look out the window of the Justice Building and spot where I lived before my parents died. My grandmother has lost so much, she can't lose me too. And just like that, my mind switched from defeated to determined. I have to win. I won't allow my grandmother to endure any more loss. I have to come home... I have to come home...

The door opens, and I turn, ready to ensure my grandmother that I am going to come home. That she doesn't need to worry because I am going to win for her. However, my grandmother doesn't step through the door

"Time to go," a Peacekeeper steps towards me and grabs my wrist to lead me to the train.

"What about my grandmother?" I ask, stumbling as he yanks me toward the door. No answer. "What about my grandmother?" I ask again, pulling back so we came to a stop.

"She passed out a few moments after you were taken into the Justice Building." 

I feel all of the color drain from my face, "What? I-is she okay? Did anyone help her?" I ask as we approach the car designated to take the female tribute to the train station. 

The Peacekeeper shoves me in the back seat, "I don't know," he spits before shutting the door.

I don't know if the car ride to the train station was incredibly short, or if it simply seemed that way because my mind was going a million miles an hour. As I step out of the car, I am pulled back to reality by the flashing lights and shouts of Capitol reporters. I do my best to pull myself together, but as I look up at the monitor broadcasting our arrival to the train station, I realize that I am failing to do so. I look weak. I look fragile. I look like the perfect target for the arena. As Beck arrives, he looks the complete opposite. He is waving, has his chest puffed out, snd tops it all off with a charming smile. He looks strong. He looks like an ally. He looks like a victor. 

I take a deep breath as I get on the train. Finnick is going to be on this train. God, what is wrong with me? I have a million other things to worry about right now, why am I thinking about how reuniting with Finnick is going to go? I shake my head as I walk into our compartment. Barnaby is already aboard, sitting at the table filled with various snacks and appetizers. He is facing the back of the train car, mesmerized by the airing of the other districts' reapings. He doesn't even realize we have boarded until Beck clears his throat uncomfortably. 

Barnaby's head snaps in our direction so fast, I think I can see glitter fly off his bright green wig, "Oh, terribly sorry," he says standing up, "Welcome aboard! We should arrive in the Capitol sometime tomorrow morning, so make yourselves at home!" He sashays up to inspect us, "Oh what beautiful tributes you both are," he says, taking both our chins with his hands. "Well, I am going to go find your mentors so you guys can start chatting it up," he says, pushing between the two of us to enter the car behind us. "This is going to be a good year for District 4, I can just feel it!" he says as the sliding doors close behind him, leaving me and Beck in an empty car by ourselves. 

Beck plops down on one of the plush chairs, and snatches some kind of pastry from the display on the table next to it. I sit down in the chair diagonal from him, not really in the mood to eat anything. 

"So, did you know him?" I ask awkwardly, breaking the silenced

"What?" he asks, mouth full of pastry. 

"The boy you volunteered for. Did you know him?" I clarify. 

"Oh, no I didn't. " He says simply. So he is a career. Lovely. 

"So-"

"Listen, we can just skip the small talk, alright?" he suddenly interrupts, "I have been told that I have a pretty good chance at winning this thing. That means you have to die. And I don't want to be the one who has to do it, but just in case I am, it'll make it a lot easier if we just don't get to know each other," he stands up, "No hard feelings, its just the way it is." He grabs something from the table as he passes it before sauntering towards the door to the other car. I look down at my hands as he makes his way over to the door. Can I win this? Is it even worth it? I don't even know what state my grandmother is in. I don't know if she's even... No. Don't think like that. She is probably at home resting, with Annie by her side tending to all her needs. I need to win this and get back to her. And Annie, of course, she's probably worried just as much as my grandma is. Maybe even a bit more. I just have to get back to them.

"Oh, excuse me," I hear Beck say as he reaches the automatic doors to the joining car. 

"Don't worry about it," I hear a familiar voice say. All my limbs immediately turn to stone. I don't dare look up. "Hey, Ara." 

Chills are sent down my spine. I tear my gaze away from my fidgeting hands to meet his. We stare at each other for a moment. His hair is messy, as if he had been running his hands through it continuously. His eyes were glossy, but I couldn't tell if that was their natural state, or if he was on the verge of tears. I know I was. 

It then seems as if I completely lose control of my body as my shaky legs lift me up from my seat, and take me over to where Finnick is standing. By body nearly slams into his as I wrap my arms around his torso, burying my face in his chest. He returns my embrace, and touches his lips the the crown of my head, sending more chills down my spine. He places his hand on the back of my head, pulling me closer, and takes my head under his chin. I feel all my muscles relax. I almost forget the reason I am here, until Finnick whispers, "I am so sorry."

"Shh, I'm enjoying the moment," I whisper back, "I've always wanted to hug the famous Finnick Odair." 

I feel the vibrations of his chuckle against my ear before his arms loosen around me, signaling that it was time to let go. Reluctantly, I obliged. 

"And here I thought you were happy to see me," he laughs.

"Of course I'm happy to see you, Finn," I playfully punch his shoulder, "I just wish it was under different circumstances." He doesn't say anything is return, just hums in agreement. "I missed you, Finnick."

"I would expect nothing less," he joked, "I was the only ray of sunshine in that sorry little district."

What? Does he not live in District 4 anymore? No, of course he does, I've seen his house in Victor's Village. Every time I pass by, I peek in to see the name Odair engraved on his mailbox. I even saw smoke coming out of his chimney not two weeks ago. Maybe I'm just overthinking. I seem to be doing that a lot recently. 

After a few moments of silence, I ask the question I've wanted to ask him for years: "Why did you stop coming to see us?" I almost whisper. I can tell I caught him off guard.

He takes in a sharp breath, "Ara," he thinks for a moment, "I was trying to do what was best for you and Annie." What was best for us? What kind of excuse was that? 

Before I can question him further, Barnaby bursts into the room, "Ah! I see Ara and Finnick have found each other!" 

"We certainly have," Finnick smiles, keeping his eyes locked on mine. 

I break eye contact with him and look in Barnaby's direction. I notice that he has brought an elderly woman with him. I'm assuming this is Mags, the other mentor. District 4 is one of the luckier districts because we have both a male and female victor still alive. This is also the case for Districts 1 and 2. If a District has two victors of opposite genders, they are both allowed to mentor the tributes. I feel bad for the outlier districts like 10, 11, and 12, who usually only have two or three victors still alive, usually of the same gender. I've heard that 12 only has one victor that's still alive. I've seen him on stage when my family watched the reapings of the other districts on TV. Some years he's there, some years he shows up late, and some years he doesn't even show at all. My guess is he's not the best mentor. Thats probably why 12 struggles so immensely every year. 

Finnick's face lights up when he turns to see Mags, "Thanks, Barney, I can introduce these two." 

"For the last time, it's Bar-na-by," Barnaby says as he exits the car. I do my best to hold in my laughter. I have never seen a person from the Capitol angry, but it is pretty amusing, especially in their outrageous accent. 

Finnick takes Mags' hand and gently kisses it as he leads her over to where I'm standing, "Mags, this is Ara. She's an old friend," he says softly. 

"Finnick has told me so much about you," Mags says in a voice that is barely audible. 

"He has?" I ask in a low voice, trying to match her volume. I'm not even trying to joke around, I am genuinely curious.

She takes my hand in both of hers and leans in to whisper in my ear, "All the time."

I can only imagine the look on my face. I am confused out of my mind, but I try my best to smile back at at her and shrug it off. This makes no sense! I thought I fell off his radar years ago. Why did he leave? Why did he stop coming to see us? Does he even live in District 4 anymore? I look over at Finnick, who is now staring out the window, letting Mags and I have our space to get acquainted. Who is he? How can someone you were so incredibly close to become a complete stranger in just two years. It feels like my heart has completely turned to stone and has just dropped to the bottom of my stomach. 

"It is so nice to meet you," I almost whisper, squeezing her hands which are still intertwined with mine, "Is there somewhere where I can freshen up before dinner?" She simply nods and points a shaky hand towards the door that Beck went through earlier. I squeeze her hands again before finally unraveling them and mouth, "Thank you." 

I glance over to Finnick again, who already has his eyes on me, "S-see you at dinner," I say, caught off guard by the sudden eye contact. 

"Looking forward to it," he says. I give Mags one last smile before turning and entering the car that contained the tributes' bedrooms. As I enter the car, Beck is just coming out of his room. We make brief eye contact before he brushes past me and enters the car with Mags and Finnick. I enter my room on the far side of the car. 

I carefully peel off my mother's dress, not wanting to tarnish it in any way. I find an empty hanger in the closet— that is filled with other clothes for me to wear— and hang it up.

It takes me a moment to figure out how to use the shower, but I eventually program it to my liking. I hop in, washing off the salty District 4 air and dust that collected on my skin during the reaping. I don't even bother washing my hair. 

I slip on a simple, deep blue dress and face myself in the bathroom mirror. I let my long, dark brown hair fall down my back. I look over my shoulder to my mother's dress hanging up in the closet. I swallow hard and take a deep breath as I turn back to the mirror. 

A loud pounding at the door causes me to jump, "Ara! Time for dinner!" Barnaby calls from the other side. I glance at myself one more time in the mirror before making my way over to the door. 

As I open the door, I am met with the green man, fist raised as if he was going to knock again. My eyes travel from his hand to his unnaturally green eyes, "I'm coming," I say, slightly sarcastically. I let him lead me to the dinning car. 

As I take my seat next to Beck, Barnaby taps his silver spoon to his glass, "I would like to propose a toast to my two lovely tributes! May the odds be ever in both of your favor," he smiles. 

I bite my tongue to keep myself from making a stupid remark. The odds can't be in both of our favors. Only one of us can come home... if even. Finnick must have noticed my anger at Barnaby's statement because I look up to see him lightly chuckling at me. This makes me even more angry. This isn't a joke, he should know that. I can feel my cheeks starting to get hot now.

I throw whatever I can on my plate and stand up, "I think I'm going to eat in my room tonight," I say as calmly as I possibly can in this moment. Before anyone can object I storm out of the car like a child. 

I set my plate of food on my nightstand, having no intention of eating it anytime soon. I take a seat at the edge of my bed. How am I going to do this? My only shot at going home is playing the game. I can't just defy and deny these next few days. I have to prepare. I sigh and flop down on my back, arms outstretched as I start to accept my position as a tribute. The only way out is to fight. To play the Capitol's game, and play it well. So, that's exactly what I plan on doing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I know it's 2019, and Hunger Games is VERY out, but I've just been on a Hunger Games kick lately.Obviously, I'm going to change some things from how they happened in the books/movies. But this is fanfiction, so I'm allowed to. Anyways, if anyone is actually reading this story, please give me some feedback and tell me if I should continue!
> 
> Thank you<3


End file.
